What We Are
by ray4ruffles
Summary: After the events of Echo Cave, everyone is on edge. So why does Emma decide now is the time to push Hook into talking about the past? Captain Swan ficlet.


**A/N: I love Captain Swan, and I've had this exchange rolling in my head since "Ariel". It's pretty OOC, since Emma would never be that honest with Hook, but in my world of fluffy bunnies and honest admissions, this is one that I really loved.**

Obviously I do not own OUaT, because then the world would be my oyster and there'd be a lot more crack couplings...

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Hook shifted slightly in his seat, his fingers rubbing against themselves in an effort to distract from his desire to reach for his flask. Things in the group had gotten very awkward very quickly since Neal's addition to their party, but Henry was still in need of rescue and Snow and Em—_Swan_, he forced himself to correct—had put all of their efforts into a plan.

Finding Pan's encampment wasn't nearly as hard with Neal and Hook's combined knowledge of the island, not to mention everyone's misery in facing their deepest secrets. It was by sheer force of will that they had agreed to settle for a few hours of sleep once more when they'd established a plan of attack. Said plan was a little more aggressive than he would have normally liked, as he'd never known the boy to be surprised by anything, but at this point he didn't feel as much need to voice any objections. That was the problem with the Cave: after revealing your darkest secrets, even suicide missions didn't seem too bad.

Something that did surprise him was how the group had now split itself: Snow, still too furious to even look at Charming, had somewhat isolated herself in the rear as they traveled: she'd even opted to take the high ground during the fight. Though sensible, as she was the strongest shot with a bow, it was just as obvious a move to keep from talking to anyone as she mourned her loss of both her husband and her potential future in whatever realm she returned to.

As for Charming himself, the budding friendship between him and the pirate had apparently been pushed aside as he paired up with his obvious choice for his daughter's affections. Neal was more than willing to accept the extension of friendship, as he appeared to be respecting Swan's choice to avoid the pain of trying to make their relationship work. Hook had hated hearing their exchange, and his inability to keep himself from eavesdropping; for if what the two of them had said didn't have the makings of a true love story, well, he wasn't sure what did.

The truly astounding switch however, was the woman that was now treading softly as she came up beside him in the brush. Swan had spent much of her time trailing as a quiet presence near her mother, attempting words of comfort before the other had invariably requested that they just focus on the task at hand. Hook could see the blonde felt sympathy for the woman as she agreed, and kept to strategy until they'd reached their encampment.

It was then that the Savior had paired herself with the pirate, away from the others. Hook had felt his chest tighten, but was quick to push down the emotion. He'd put himself out there, and gotten shot down as effectively and painfully as a tearful confession could, and now he just hoped that the girl was only there to remind him of his part in the plan.

"Rum?" he offered out of habit, dropping any effort to forego his vices. To his surprise she accepted the flask and took a long pull before handing it back. He watched her curiously, though her courage had apparently ended with the drink, as she was now staring intently at the ground.

After a few more moments of silence, the dark-haired pirate finally spoke up again. "You should get some rest, tomorrow—"

"What was Milah like?" The question came from nowhere, and it practically gave the man whiplash as his neck snapped toward her. Her green eyes were piercing as they focused on his blue ones, though they shifted back downward as she seemed to realize what she'd vocalized.

"I'm sorry—it's none of my business—"

"Milah?" he repeated, reaching out with his good hand to keep her from leaving, though he wasn't certain himself what to say. "She was… beautiful, audacious, adventurous—a phoenix rising above the ashes of mediocrity to set the worlds ablaze." He gave a sad smile, even as he laughed softly. "She would have liked you," he commented, giving her a pointed look.

"Is that why you loved her?"

Hook furrowed his eyebrows at her as he considered her question, unsure about the connotations; but she seemed genuinely curious as she watched him with her cutting gaze. "Aye," he answered. "For me, she was freedom, as much as the sea and the Roger herself. Ours was a short moment, but it burned brighter than some find in a lifetime." He watched as she nodded to herself, and couldn't resist asking, "And what of you and Neal?"

The woman shook her head in uncertainty. "I found Neal when I had nothing, no one," she confessed. "I'd just gotten out of the system, and I was pretty screwed up." She laughed drily. "We met when I stole the car he'd already stolen. We got pulled over by a cop and he managed to talk us out of trouble."

Hook met her smirk. "Not much of a thief, were you?" he accused lightly.

She rolled her eyes at him. "I was _seventeen_," she replied. "What were _you_ doing at seventeen?"

He grinned. "_I_ was enlisted in the King's Royal Navy," he told her, smile widening as her jaw dropped slightly at his response.

"_You_ were in the Navy?" she repeated incredulously before shaking her head. "Wow."

Emma sighed and shrugged as she turned back to his question. "Neal and that car were home. We lived moment to moment, stealing whatever we needed to get by. At the time it was all I ever wanted—I didn't even think about roots or a real life until he suggested it." She glanced at the man next to her. "He was my world, my family, and I just wanted to be with him."

"And now?" he prodded, feeling masochistic for even asking the question.

"Now, I still love him," she admitted, glancing in the direction of her father and ex. "But I grew up—I went to prison, I had a kid, and said kid tracking me down and pulling me back into his life. It's been over ten years, and I know I'm not the same person I was, even if I _am_ holding on to him."

Hook could feel something in need of ferreting out of her words, and while he hated being the one to get to them, his curiosity was insatiable when it came to the vibrant blonde beside him. "Then why—?"

She chuckled again as she dropped her eyes to her shoes. "I've lived so long with these shields, with this…_hole_ defining me…" As she raised her eyes to gaze into his, he finally realized why she had chosen his company. "I'm not even sure I know _how_ to let my guard down anymore; to really love or trust anyone. Everything I am is made up of my past. If I let it go, who am I?"

Killian Jones reached out with his good hand and took the soft feminine one closest to it. Her eyes glistened a little, on the edge of tears that she would never allow him to see, and a ferocity that she wore around him all too often. He watched her internal struggle as she exposed even this little insecurity with him, and found himself wishing he'd had the chance to meet her before the anguish of loss had stolen her idealism.

"You are Emma Swan," he assured her. "As fierce and strong as a tempest, and as loyal as the most stalwart crew. As someone who understands holding on to the heartache of the past, believe me when I say letting yours go doesn't leave you nearly alone as some. You've got your family; you've got _Henry_." He angled his head as she pursed her lips. "Come on, Swan, you've crossed worlds for that boy, and he loves you. You trust _him_, don't you?"

"Henry's never given up on me," she admitted, scoffing softly. "I let him go when he was born, and he found me. He didn't quit on me when I didn't believe in the curse—he ate a poisoned dessert to save _me_." Her spare hand brushed aside a stray strand of hair as she smiled. "Even when I lied to him about Neal he found a way to forgive me. I'd go to Hell for him." She glanced around. "Or Neverland, I guess."

Hook smiled comfortingly. "You see, lass? There's more to you than your pain, than the walls. It just takes time to get used to being without them."

He gave her a warm smile, which, after a moment, Emma responded to by groaning slightly and biting her lip as she clenched her hand, slowly pulling it out of his grasp. The pirate couldn't help the frown that flitted across his expression. "What?" he asked.

"You," she conceded, her fingers pushing against her temples as she hid her face behind a curtain of gold tresses. "Why do you have to be like that?"

"So devilishly charming and handsome?" he replied, trying to mask his confusion with a smirk, not to mention the sudden, exceptionally loud thud of his heart trying to escape from behind his ribs.

"So stubborn?" she countered, her face contorted in frustration. "I threatened to tie you up for ogre kibble, left you chained up on a beanstalk, and knocked you unconscious at the lake on the wrong side of a portal."  
"Well, to be fair, I did help lock you in an unescapable prison, try to steal your ride home, and thwarted your plan to save your town," he reminded her.

"You came back for us, and you're here," she continued. "I didn't give you any reason to stay, to help, but you did."

"You said I could be a part of something," he reminded her. "I simply took you up on your offer."

Emma met his eyes with guilt. "I shouldn't have kissed you," she told him.

Hook felt his heart plummet, but he nodded with a self-assured look. "You'd be surprised how many women do things they shouldn't when in my presence," he replied. She didn't answer, and his face slipped into sobriety as he huffed softly. "I know," he amended. " But you didn't know Neal was alive."

"That's not why," she told him. She inhaled deep as she seemed to set herself. "You told me a secret, so I'll tell you one. I love Neal, but honestly I don't know if I'm in love with _him_ or his memory and what we were then—of home. I kissed you, but I didn't think I'd have to think about what that meant until we got back to Storybrooke." She shook her head, staring at the dirt in vexation. "I just…I _have_ to focus on getting Henry back. This is all just too much."

The pirate's heart was racing wildly. Sure, she wasn't exactly returning his advances, certainly not wrapping his arms (or mouth, or tongue…) around him, but he couldn't help but hear in her rambling the non-rejection. And he couldn't help but wonder if, when they finally were in a realm where she didn't have to worry about getting to Henry, maybe he'd have a shot after all.

He brought up his hook to tilt her face back toward his. "We'll find Henry," he told her. "We'll get him home. Whatever comes after that…it can wait 'till after."

Emma looked at him, her expression torn between guilt and relief. "I'm sorry," she told him honestly.

He shrugged again. "I've waited over a century to move on with my life, love," he replied. "I think I can wait a while longer yet. Although," he smirked, shifting his eyebrows back and forth suggestively. "If you'd like to blow off any more stress before then—"

The woman next to him groaned and shoved him hard as she rolled her eyes, standing up and leaving him tilted over on the ground as she walked away to go back and check on her mother. However, he watched as she let a small smile slip as she glanced over her shoulder a moment to where he was still grinning as he righted himself.

A man should fight for what he wants, he reminded himself as he readied himself for battle. And what he wanted was to be part of something.


End file.
